"Come here," said the petticoated tyrant. “These are her rooms,” she said. "'Faith, an' you may say that," returned a watchman, who was wiping a ruddy stream from his brow; "they've broken the paice, and our pates into the bargain. ‘It is pretty. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. “Is Lady Lescelles in?” he asked the butler. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. He brought home a few waverers to talk to them where they had no chance of getting away.
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